La Saint-Valentin
by AliceHeart247
Summary: Modern A/U from Fixing Monstrosity. Erik and Christine share a fun Valentine's Day. For The Phantom Valentine's One-Shot Contest.


**A/N: Hello all! I had hoped to put this out before Valentine's, but clearly that did not happen. Still, I could not resist putting this out for The Phantom's Valentine One-Shot Contest hosted by Not A Ghost3. I entered the Christmas one and had a ball. Hopefully I will be able to do more!**

 **I promise that this should be the last one-shot before I publish my long awaited story.** **It is based upon the same world as my _Fixing Monstrosity_ one-shot, but no previous knowledge is needed. I hope you all like it!**

Christine came out of her room and into the spacious sitting area of Erik's penthouse apartment. She still did not understand why he needed all of this room, but his claims of claustrophobia were enough to stop her from voicing her musings. The floor was a crisp white and the walls were the same. It reminded her of an Apple store. She smirked to see the scuff mark she had "accidentally" put on the floor next to the sofa. He had not complained. He had not even moved to clean it. She supposed he liked it. She was simply tired of living in a sterile home.

She looked over to the black leather couch, somehow perfectly square despite the push cushions. The back of his head was to her. Black hair slicked back, not a single strand out of place.

'Good morning!' she cheered happily to him, moving to stand beside him.

He leapt off the couch as though it were on fire and whirled round to face her. He looked like a cat who had be startled. His features quickly calmed to a softer smile.

'Good morning, Christine. Did you sleep well?' This was his usual greeting, but she could tell there was an underlying excitement to it.

She nodded, humming her affirmative. He finally seemed to notice how she held her hands behind her back. She waited until his questioning glances made her face explode into a bright smile.

'Happy Valentine's Day!'

Erik leaned back minimally as she cried this loudly, simultaneously presenting him with a small box. He eyed it a moment before looking up to her with smiling eyes.

'Happy Valentine's Day to you, as well,' he told her in his gently purring voice.

She held the box out a bit longer, but he made no move to take it. 'Erik, don't you want your present?' she asked, starting to worry he would not like it.

'You mean that is for me?'

She would have glared at him for his dry sarcasm, but his eyes were innocent.

'Of course,' she explained, stepping closer. 'That's what presents are for. To give to someone else.'

'I know that, but…' he trailed off, staring down at the gift. 'I have never gotten one before.' He said it in such a small voice, Christine could have sworn she knew what he had sounded like as a child.

Gingerly, he took the box, wrapped in a simple red ribbon, and held it in his hands as though it were a priceless artefact.

'Are you going to open it, or what?' She was beginning to wonder how much of this she would have to walk him through.

Erik considered the possibilities. What if he did not like it? Would he be able to lie and not disappoint her? What if he did like it but he did not act happy enough? The last thing he wanted today was to make her unhappy.

Taking the end of the ribbon in his fingers as though it held some infection that would kill him if he touched it further, he pulled the bow free. Lifting the lid with the same careful precision, he took a breath of courage before looking at the contents.

It was a ring. But not just any ring.

He looked up to her in surprise. 'You bought it?' he asked in wonderment.

She nodded. They had gone to an antique store a few weeks back, being careful to hide in the tall stacks of furniture and books. He had spied the ring and liked it.

'But I thought you said it would not suit me,' he argued, remembering how hard she had striven to convince him.

'Only so that _you_ would not buy it. You are hard to shop for. You always buy what you like without a second thought. It was the only way I could think to keep you from this. I had the lady at the register hold it for me until I could slip away long enough to buy it for you,' Christine explained.

Erik turned his eyes back to the ring. It was a simple gold band with a round onyx stone set nearly seamlessly in the middle. Taking it from the box, he placed it on his left pinkie finger.

'Does it fit?' Christine asked, leaning around to see it better.

'Perfectly,' he told her, still admiring it a bit. He held it out for her to see. He quickly got lost in her appraising smile. She was so effortlessly beautiful; her dark brown curls setting off the ivory green of her eyes perfectly. Her heart-shaped face always shone so brightly when she smiled, only hurting him more when she cried. She was his angel.

'Thank you,' he all but whispered, now seeing her eyes meet his. It seemed that when she looked at him, they deepened. He felt as though he could fall into their depths as she plunged into his soul.

Christine cringed when her stomach produced an obnoxious growl, ruining the moment. She was partially embarrassed of this, but mostly curious as to why she was upset their gazing had been interrupted. Erik kept her by his side almost constantly. Surely she would not find one moment of looking at him any more special than another.

'You're hungry,' he announced, looking at her abdomen as though it had threatened to eat her.

She hummed, always enjoying watching his little moments of marvel. 'Oh!' she squeaked, covering her mouth. 'I just woke up. My breath must be near deadly. I'm sorry,' she said, muffling her words through her hand.

Erik's eyes crinkled in mirth. He actually let out a few huffs as though he were laughing. She had never heard him laugh out of pure joy, only ever out of maniacal craze.

'Then perhaps I should make you breakfast. How does French toast sound?' he asked, moving over to the kitchen area.

'That sounds wonderful, thank you.' She followed him, walking to the cabinets to get a glass. She had to stand on her toes, her long night shirt brushing just at the backs of her knees. She did not notice Erik glancing at her or her dancer's calves. He loved watching her in the kitchen, the way she would occasionally pirouette while humming some song. She made his apartment feel like a home. And though he would never admit it, he loved the scuff she had made with her black shoe on his floor. He would never clean it as it was proof she had been there. A little bit of Christine in his home. He could do without the hair in the drain of the shower, though.

He kept a wary eye on her as she went to the refrigerator to grab the orange juice bottle. She had spilled it yesterday, turning his floor into a sticky mess. She had cleaned it with a thousand apologies, but he had been more concerned she would drop the glass and send it shattering on the floor for her to accidentally cut herself on.

This morning, she avoided incident and went to sit at the bar on the other side of his nearly box-shaped arrangement of counters. He worked quickly, happily feeling her eyes on him. When he turned round to give her the plate, she was gazing out the window. In truth, the entire right wall was a window, all the way into her bedroom. His was on the other side, so no light would entre. She looked like a bird wishing to fly free.

'Christine,' his voice brought her back to him. 'I hope you don't mind, but I have made plans for us for dinner tonight.'

'Of course I don't mind,' she replied cheerily as ever. 'You know I like your taste in restaurants.'

Erik took the compliment and stored it with the other harmless ones she had so graciously bestowed upon him. 'I simply did not know if there was something special you wanted to do today. Anywhere you might wish to go,' he offered, hoping she would come up with something. He had been so busy with planning dinner that he had neglected to find anything else for them to do.

Christine sat there, thinking while she ate her breakfast. She had liked the new syrup he had gotten her, and the strawberries he sliced on her toast were a nice treat.

While Erik waited for an answer, he idly sipped his coffee, toying with the spoons and whisks in their cup on the corner of the counter. Pulling out the spatula, he looked at her questioningly.

'Where did this come from?' he asked, raising his one visible eyebrow at her.

She hid her smirk arguable well. 'Your other one may have met its end the other day. I'm surprised it took you this long to notice.' She nodded at the offending object.

'It's red,' he noted. Everything in his kitchen was either black, white, or stainless steel.

She nodded, chewing a large bite of toast. 'I thought you could use some colour in your home.'

He raised his eyebrow somehow further. Shaking his head, he put the spatula away. 'How did you get it?'

'How else? I ordered it.' She shrugged, finishing off her juice.

The one downside to living with Erik was that he would not let her go anywhere without him, and he rarely ever left the house. At all. Buying him the ring had been practically a Mission Impossible episode. He mostly ordered what he needed and had shared his online accounts with her.

'I suppose we will be short a fork until I buy a new set,' he mumbled as she passed. She smiled when her back was to him. She hoped no one had been injured when she pitched it from the window. She had been angry about something and he had a specific number of everything. He was OCD like that. She liked to be his chaos.

She hummed noncommittally in reply, rising off her plate.

'Tell me again why you felt the need to make my silverware drawer uneven. People use forks,' he told her, leaning over her a bit to both emphasise his point and to keep her in place. He was also rinsing out his mug, but that was not worthy of much thought.

She shrugged. 'Maybe I have something against sets of perfect silverware. Just be glad it wasn't a spoon. We go through those quickly.'

Erik sighed, but he could not resist the smile. 'Have you decided what you would like to do today?' he asked, watching her walk back into the living room.

She shook her head without turning back. 'Let me finish my morning and then I'll tell you.'

Erik shook his head. 'It's half-past eleven,' he called to her retreating form.

'Then give me thirty minutes,' she replied, closing the bedroom door behind her.

It was not long before he heard the shower come on in their adjoining bathroom. This would be a little while. Giving the spatula one last glance of mild disapproval, he went to his reading chair and picked up his tablet. Might as well get comfy.

* * *

True to her word, Christine re-emerged from her room, her hair dripping slightly—just the way Erik disapproved of—and herself clothed in a t-shirt and jeans—just the way Erik refused to admit he hated. He secretly liked it better when she wore her nightgown. It showed her comfort and she generally was more agreeable and less inhibited when slightly tired.

She came to stand before him, hands on her hips. 'I would like to go to the park.'

'You'll need a jacket, then,' he said without looking up.

She sighed heavily and trudged off to her room. She came back and looked at him expectantly.

'You know, if I had wanted a moody teenager, I would have visited a high school,' he quipped.

'If _I'd_ wanted a stick in the mud, I would have looked in the park,' she snapped back. He smiled behind his shielding tablet, bookmarking his place.

Moving almost in slow-motion, he went to put on his coat, hat, and ducked into his room to replace his mask. He always wore a skin-toned one for outings. When he came back out, he saw Christine brimming with laughter. He raised his ever accusing eyebrow at her.

'Every time you go to put that mask on, I expect you to come out with Groucho Marx glasses.' She let out a giggle as he let his displeasure be seen. Rolling his eyes, he ushered her out the door.

She bounded down the hall, calling a "race 'ya!" over her shoulder which he dryly ignored. Honestly, sometimes she was more like a Jack Russell Terrier than a 20-year-old. She bounced a bit in a little dance as she waited for the elevator to come, the button glowing promisingly at her.

'Remind me never to give you sugar,' he muttered as they walked into the small, grey box.

'Aw, come on! It's Valentine's Day! Be happy for once,' she nudged him lightly with her shoulder. He looked at her out the corner of his eye, seeing her glee fading some.

'Despite popular belief, I am often quite contented with my life.'

'"Quite contented" is not the same as happy,' she insisted. 'Smile some. I love seeing you smile,' she urged from him, looking at him with those suddenly deep eyes.

He let his lips soften into a small smile at her behest. He could deny her nothing. When the elevator dinged to announce their arrival at the garage floor, however, it faded. He was out in the open now.

Christine seemed to notice the panic rise behind his eyes and the set lines his face took. She wove her hand into his gloved one, intertwining their fingers. It was Valentine's Day. Why not be a little bolder?

His surprise quickly wore off as they walked to his awaiting car. It was black with darkly tinted windows and almost ridiculously low to the ground. He opened the door for her as always, making sure she was comfortable in the deeply set leather seats. The interior was dark as well, apart from the digital monitors on the dash.

He smoothly pulled out and into the city traffic. He knew which park she wanted. She loved the Scenic Hudson Park. Though it was a bit open, and the wind coming off the water this time of year was quite harsh, he knew she adored it.

They drove in mostly silence with Christine trying to look out the heavily tinted windows and Erik trying not to dwell on the fact that he was out in public at such an early hour. He had promised himself upon realising his lack of plans for the day that he would let her pick and simply follow her wishes, but he was sorely regretting it now.

Finally finding a good, secluded spot, he waited in the car for a moment. He was trying to brace himself for going out into the world before dark. Christine noted this.

'Erik,' she said gently, pulling him smoothly from his thoughts. 'We don't have to do this if you don't want to.' Her eyes shown so sincerely, how could he not want to obey their every wish?

'No, my dear, it is what you wanted to do, and we shall do it.' He tried nodding firmly with this to convince himself, but it only half worked.

'But I don't want you to be unhappy because of it,' she offered, but he was already getting out of the car and coming round to her side. He opened her door, his face set resolutely while his eyes flickered their inner fear.

She determined then and there that she would do her utmost to make sure he felt at least safe. Taking his hand for assistance from the low carriage car, she kept her hold on him as they walked through the trees. He looked at her in surprise for a while until his glances down at her hand, as if trying to convince himself it was real, were less frequent. He slowly began to calm some in the nature. He would only tense if a voice was heard too near them.

Walking along the bank of the river, he watched her in the afternoon light. The sun was at its highest and she looked lovely. Her dark blue jacket offset by the bright red of her scarf somehow enhanced the richness of her hair and softness of her eyes. She was a vision.

She had made a fairly good choice in coming here as the park was nearly empty due to the biting wind coming off the river. Unfortunately, there was biting wind coming off the river. Erik rolled his eyes and shook his head heavenward as he realised the ridiculous way her plan had backfired. She shivered slightly, tugging his hand a bit as her gloveless fingers turned brighter red.

Acting boldly and muttering his reasoning, he pulled her hand into the pocket of his black, wool coat. He tried to keep her fingers warmer by rubbing them slightly, meaning to pass this off instead of admitting to loving the feeling of her hand in his.

'Don't you ever get cold?' she asked, having thanked him for his pity upon her exposed hand. Her other was firmly planted in the pocket of her jacket.

Erik smirked. He would never tell her now, how cold he really was. Nor would he share the secret that he found cuddling for warmth inviting on many levels.

'If you don't like it, then you should not have suggested it.'

' _You_ didn't have to agree,' she shot back, her teeth starting to chatter a bit.

He lost his smirk. _Oh, yes I did,_ he thought. 'We can leave if you want,' he offered, starting to pity the poor girl. 'This cold air cannot be good for your throat or voice.'

'Ah, b-but I h-have m-my scarf to k-k-keep me w-warm,' she insisted, shivering.

Erik stopped, standing in front of her to block some of the wind. 'That old thing? I'm not sure it could warm a bird's nest. You should let me order you a new one,' he observed, eyeing it harshly as her nose turned even redder.

'N-no!' she yelled, clinging to it protectively. She snuggled into it some. Looking like a child. Erik stepped forward, now mildly shocked to see that she accepted his silently offered embrace.

'It's important to me,' she insisted, letting her face burrow a bit into his coat despite the itchy wool. 'It has too many good memories tied to it. My mother made it for my father and he gave it to me so I would have something of hers. It may be a little ratty now, but it's all of the good feelings I associate with it that matters, you know?' She looked up at him then, innocent as a dove.

He did not know. Not from experience, anyway. The only constant in his life had been his mask, but that was far from a source of good memories. Still, he needed to make her happy again. Her face was starting to fall from its earlier light. She was cold and lonely.

'Oh,' he said as if understanding. 'You mean like my spatula?'

Bingo. He got her back in an instant.

'Again with the damned spatula! You did _not_ have anything special with it!'

'You don't know,' he smirked playfully. Her eyebrow raise made him see the double entendre and he quickly backpedalled. 'It was given to me under very special circumstances.' He held his head high, looking foolishly imperious.

'Oh, by whom?' she challenged.

'Amazon Prime. I bought enough to get five dollars off, so I bought the spatula. They essentially gave it to me for free. Now imagine my heartbreak at hearing it is no more.' For emphasis, he held his hands over his heart in mock injury.

Christine giggled. She had not noticed, but he had been walking them back to the car, keeping an arm round her for continued warmth.

'I will tell you its fate, _if_ ,' she held up a conditional finger, 'you promise to make me hot chocolate when we get back.'

Erik closed his eyes, wondering what decision of his had led to this, and whether it was classified as a good thing or not.

'Very well,' he assented with play reluctance.

Christine waited until they were in the car, trying to be patient for the heat to come on. 'I broke the handle off,' she admitted.

Erik scoured his memory for an incident which might have caused this, but he could think of none. 'What were you doing?!'

'I had something fall between the head of my bed and the wall. It was stuck, so I got the spatula to brush it out, but I guess I pushed too hard because the handle broke.'

'Why didn't you move the bed?'

She looked at him incredulously a moment. The head and foot boards of her bed were solid oak with carvings of roses on them. There was no way in Hell she would have been able to shift it.

'Why did you not ask me for help?' he tried instead.

She looked down then. 'Because, it was such a silly thing, and I did not want to bother you with it. You do so much for me already,' she told him, barely meeting his eye.

'Christine,' he turned her chin gently towards him. 'There is nothing I would not do for you. All you have to do is ask. I even braved below freezing winds for you.' He waved outside the window as evidence.

'That's what I mean, though. I want you to do something because you want to, too. Not because you only think it will make me happy.'

'Making you happy makes me happy. When you smile, my life seems lighter. You give me purpose,' he explained earnestly.

'But I shouldn't be the only thing.'

'You're not. There are many things I do beyond work to please you. I write my music, I design buildings, and I teach you to sing. Though the last one benefits the both of us. I sit and read for hours on end sometimes, or make dinner for you. I like cooking for someone else far more than for myself. You know how I despise needing to eat,' he added a knowing grin with the last, making her sigh and nod. It was a beautiful pet-peeve of hers. She worried he would grow too thin. She worried about his health. She worried about _him_. This realisation hit home hard. His smile melted somehow more as he looked at her. She was so kind and caring. She would never mean to hurt anything.

'Of all the things I work for, your approval is my favourite.'

She smiled. 'You don't have to work so hard…most days,' she added with a smirk rivalling his own.

'Ooh,' he groaned. ' _Most days_ , I see how it is,' he smiled freely at her now, laughing. He was honestly laughing. He always knew that if he were to laugh around anyone, it would be her.

Christine basked in his joy. She had long imagined what he would sound like and now that she heard it, she knew the angels could do no better. His rich tenor reverberated about the car beautifully. It was then she noticed the heating had kicked in. Pointing at the vents and cheering, she joined in his laughter.

* * *

Christine was still coiled up on the couch with her favourite, overly colourful blanket, when he emerged sheepishly from his room. They had enjoyed soup and toast for lunch, he making her the mug of promised hot chocolate. He had lit the black glass hearth, though the central heating had done a fine job. He wanted her to be comfortable. He also wanted to see her in firelight. It would remain his favourite lighting for her as nothing quite held the same charm. She had curled into a ball on the couch to read a book and had remained quite happily so.

'Christine,' he said, walking over to her, now taking his turn in hiding something behind his back. 'It's almost time for dinner, but I thought you might like this,' he said, holding out his secret prize.

She took the large, white box, tied at the corners with red ribbon. Opening it showed a rich sea of ruby red satin. Pulling it free revealed a dress. It had a sweetheart neckline which swayed out to nearly over the shoulder cuff-sleeves. The middle had a broad sash and the skirt was a simple tulip shape all the way down to about knee level.

She looked up to where he had been, but she instead felt his presence behind her. His hands lowered a drop pendant necklace. There were small diamonds lining a circular emerald stone making it look like a circle of spring grass amidst a cluster of snowflakes. It complemented her eyes wonderfully as he fastened it for her from behind before leaning towards her to whisper in her ear.

'Do you like them, _mon ange_?' he whispered, watching her pulse increase in her neck.

'Oh, Erik!' she exclaimed excitedly. 'They're beautiful!' She looked back at his gently smiling face. 'Thank you,' she said more calmly, matching his gentility.

'Good. Now, go and get ready. You only have,' he looked at his watch, 'twenty minutes.'

She looked at him agog for a moment before glaring as she rushed off to her room. It could be done, but it would be tight.

Erik smiled after her somewhat devilishly before taking a seat in his armchair and swivelling it toward the dusk sky outside his window.

The buildings around them were already silhouetted in black, but a few were dotted with the yellow lights shining through windows. They were all too far away to ever make out any sort of details of his own apartment, but he felt comfortable watching the vague shadows of people moving about in their everyday lives. He had always enjoyed imagining he had a life like that. Tonight, he somewhat did.

Here he was, taking the woman he loved out to a fancy dinner for Valentine's Day. He had not had a night like that in his entire miserable existence. He had observed others, had watched them fail but also somehow succeed in a way he never had. The night may not end according to plan, but at least they had won themselves a date.

Erik saw the reflection of light in the window. Christine stood in her doorway, the warm glow showing her perfect figure in her dress. Any figure on her would be perfect. He took a bracing breath before turning round like a Bond villain.

He lost his breath instantly.

She was stunning. She had applied light makeup as was her wont, done her hair up with all of its messy, curly glory, and even managed to find a sweet perfume to complement the occasion.

'Christine,' he whispered out, feeling like he had been gut-punched. 'You look…perfect.' He hesitated before the last word to give it even more emphasis. All other compliments had been dashed in place of this one. For she was, in every way, perfect.

She tried to hide her blush by fussing with her hair some and going to retrieve her evening coat. He had bought it for her some weeks ago for fear of her catching cold in the harsh winter winds, though she clearly had not thought to wear it this afternoon. A darling, though she was, his Christine was not the most gifted in foresight.

Standing, as if in a dream, he ghosted over to her, never taking his eyes off her. She was too wonderful to miss a moment of. They walked out of the apartment and got into his car with all of the formality she had been lacking earlier in the day. This was one of the many things he adored about her. She had the bearing of a child one moment, and the next, a goddess. She was an angel.

They enjoyed their meal, Erik actually laughing lightly a few times while Christine elegantly poked fun at him. She blushed under his admiring gaze, making her all the more beautiful in his eyes. He was the epitome of a gentleman the whole night through, as he always was. He finally had his romantic evening.

When they returned, he sat down at the glossy black, grand piano to play a few of her favourites. He even sang a bit, making her nearly swoon in her attentive seat in his armchair. At last, however, the hour grew late and his songs came to a gentle close.

Christine watched his back, the perfect angle of his shoulders and their slope down to his narrow and bony waist. The lean muscled power beneath the black fabric of his jacket compelled her forward. She was at his side before either of them knew it.

She slid her hand across his shoulders, enjoying the feel of his perfect posture bending slightly to her will, and listening to his faint whimper of pleasure at her touch. His hands froze then fell to his lap as his neck dared to bring his head toward her. She let her hand brush just the tips of his black hair. This alone elicited another mild reaction.

Mimicking his earlier motions with the necklace, she leaned over behind him, bringing her deep red lips to his ear.

'Thank you for such a wonderful Valentine's Day, Erik,' she whispered.

Bending in and around his mask, she placed the slightest of kisses on the exposed corner of his oddly bloated lips. She retreated just as he gasped in shock. His eyes were closed as hers had been during the kiss and she swore she saw a tear run down his left cheek.

Quietly wishing him goodnight, Christine went to her bedroom.

Erik sat at the piano. He was in a daze. She had kissed him! She had complimented him and then kissed him! His night would not get any better than that. His _day_ could not have been more perfect. He spent every day with her, but this one would be one to remember. His first, true Valentine's Day.

 **A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this! Sorry again for it being a bit later than the holiday. I had a few false starts on coming up with an entry. Feel free to review.**

 **I would like to point out that the dress and necklace she wears are both owned by me, and worn to see the touring version of Phantom last March. I have pictures of both that I will post along with a link to this story on my Tumblr page which is under my penname.**


End file.
